Tabula Rasa
by KaraCola
Summary: Five years have passed since a brutal mob war destroyed many lives in Port Charles. Now, a new threat arises that will have them all revisiting the past. McBam centered story.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Tabula Rasa (This story is updated more frequently on a message board devoted to the pairing of John/Sam ( McBam ) called Caught in Your Embrace. The link is provided on my profile page if you are interested).

**Rating: **PG-13

**Summary:** It's been five years since Port Charles became a mob war zone amidst a federal investigation by FBI agent John McBain. Five years since John lost his wife and child to a car bomb that was meant for him. Five years since Sam lost her husband when Johnny Zacharra engineered the crash of Sonny's jet liner in route to Sonny's island. Five years since Sam entered protective custody to ensure the safety of herself and her child...

**Chapter One**

Monday came in a haze of blurred and bloodshot movement as John fought to untangle himself from the well worn hotel couch he'd passed out on the night before in an all too common state of inebriation. His head was pounding to the beat of his heart as his feet hit the floor in a shuffle of a stumble towards the half filled coffee pot on the desk next to his laptop.

He filled a hotel cup with the stale nectar and downed the cold brew with a bitter scowl before dropping into the seat before his laptop. A keystroke later and he was starring at box asking for his biometrics. John slid his right index finger over the reader and then pried open his right eye leaning in closer to the camera. The screen buzzed to life and bore a simple gray screen asking him for todays password.

John scratched at stubble that had grown through a weekend of off duty forgetfulness and peered at the phone expectantly. It rang a moment later and he quickly answered. "Foxtrot Tango Five Seven Delta Kilo Four Zero Oscar," came a computerized version of a voice over the line, the contents of which John quickly entered with his keyboard. There were few things in his life that he looked forward too, but every now again he got a chance to check in on old friends.

The screen flashed to video, full screen and John hitched in a breath, eyes glassing over as Samantha Morgan, alias unknown, stared at the screen with a smile a tiny little girls hand in her own as she helped her wave at the camera embedded in a similar laptop to his own. "Say hi to Grammy," Sam told her baby blue eyed daughter who sat in her lap, ringlets of mahogany locks falling all around her round face.

"Hi Grammy!" Sam's daughter squealed excitedly. John still didn't know the little girls name but he couldn't help but smile as soon as she lit the screen. The video wasn't live – it was a recording. A secure link to a message center for witnesses in protective custody to leave messages to their loved ones. The little girl was already squirming, wanting to get down so she could play with something off camera and Sam obliged a moment later after her daughter recanted that she was soon to start to kindergarten.

Sam's smile waned as her little girl headed off screen to play and she no longer had to keep up appearances. "I miss you so much," She whispered. John's smile dwindled as well and he gently rubbed his finger against the screen as though she could somehow feel his presence. That was an impossibility though, Sam didn't even know he watched the feed.

"You'd think that after five years, this would get easier..." She trailed off with a tight swallow, looking away from the camera a moment. "I love you Mom. Tell Krissy and Molly that I love them too." There were countless things unsaid – precious details that had to be lacking in order for the feed to even be a possibility. If Sam gave too many details about her new life than should the feed be intercepted she could be found. "Happy Fourth of July..."

John paused the video a split second after she made a reach for the camera to cut the feed, freezing the frame on her face. Sam was his only tie to a past that still haunted him every waking moment of every day...She had a piece of his soul tucked in her secret keeping, lost in the wide world – her image a hair's breath from his fingers, while she was still so ever far away for safe keeping.

WWW

Damian Spinelli jumped awake to a sound of metal bouncing off of metal inches from his head. He screamed out in alarm, both hands raising protectively to his ears as he skittered backwards away from the assault on his senses until his back hit the wet wall of his makeshift prison cell. "Get back to work," a rather burly man by the name of Landon growled out as he slid his laptop case across the floor to Spinelli's capable hands.

"Boss, wants the location by the end of the day or your girlfriend is dead."

"Hacking the U.S. Marshal service is going to take more time," Spinelli argued. "The Master of Evil must understand..."

Landon shut him up with a swift kick to the guts, then took the stunned hacker by the collar, pulling his boney body close to drive the point home with a snarl. "The only thing to understand is that if the Boss doesn't have Samantha Morgan's location by sunset, Maxie Jones is a dead woman."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Lucky Spencer shoved his feet against the floor and sailed backwards in his rolling precinct chair, spanning the distance between his and Dante's desk before setting a file folder into a already bursting wire basket. "Another hit on that pipeline 14 case. Interpol had some chatter last night."

Dante hadn't given him so much of a glance until the words pipeline and 14 passed his partners lips. He looked up sharply and made a mad grab for the file folder. "Same as Kandahar?"

"Same as Kandahar." Lucky nodded.

Dante was already throwing the folder open, color draining from his face, bile rising in his throat as his eyes lit on the report before him and the accompanying photos. It was whole minutes before he could clear his throat and speak out on what he had in front of him. "The attacks are getting more frequent." Dante's voice betrayed the choke of shock.

"Three this month." Lucky agreed. This whole thing was getting unnerving on a personal level. "Whoever this guy is he wants to make Sonny's enemies pay."

"No one can trace him to Sonny's payroll." John had overheard the last little bit as he walked in the door, fresh coffee from Kelley's in hand. He sank into the desk across from Lucky, beside Delores and leaned back tiredly.

"Doesn't mean he isn't working for him," Delores reminded them, glad to have her partner back despite his clearly hung over state.

"What's the new?" John motioned to the file folder in Dante's grasp.

"Guy frapped two of the Zacharra's handlers in Paris...I should say former handlers. These were guys that were with them half a decade ago." Dante explained.

John frowned and sat up, taking more of an interest. "Who?"

"Derick and Fonz." Lucky spoke up for Dante.

"Johnny's Enforcer and main body guard?" John was even more up in arms now.

"I think so, I'd have to go back through the files." Dante nodded.

"No need I remember them." John frowned. "They were brought in on questioning when

Sonny's plane went down. What's the chatter from Interpol?"

"Someone with a whole lot of know how is cleaning up an old mess." Lucky wasn't really sure that he liked Interpol's take on the whole affair, but so far they seemed to think that it was a story that was going to play out in Europe.

Silence fell over the group as memories grew warmer concerning their last go round with the Zacharra's and the crime family's effect on Port Charles. They were still reflecting when a couple of rookies walked by about to go on patrol with a missing person's case in tow. "We should check out his Mr. Spinelli's apartment first," one of them was in the middle of saying.

"Damian Spinelli?" Dante rose from his seat and reached for the file.

"Yes, sir."

Dante met John, Lucky, and Delores' gaze worriedly as he plucked the file away. He browsed the info and frowned further. "Spinelli's been missing for 27 hours."

"28," Mac spoke up as he made his way into the station like the devil himself was behind him. "And Maxie's missing too."

**WWW**

Marine experience was a Godsend when it came to relocating and finding work. Sam Morgan, now known as Hannah Sparks, had really exceeded her expectations when she was able to get on with a small time marine park in Louisiana. It wasn't top of the line, but it paid the bills and she got dive time and all kinds of play time with the marine life. Not to mention that Danielle loved it. Well she would have been Danielle. That was what she and Jason planned on naming their daughter.

When Sam had to change their names in the wake of losing her husband she decided to honor his name by renaming Danielle – Jasira. It was similar to Jason and had the meaning of bold and courageous, two attributes that she felt conveyed him in a nut shell.

Sam headed out the park front gates with a wave to the security guard, a high school senior with a basketball scholarship to Tulane and chanced a glance in her rear view at the the source of the humming from the backseat. "Jas, did Theo let you feed the otters?" She asked her daughter,

"He did!" Jasira replied excitedly with animated clapping to further explain her restlessness. Sam couldn't help but return her daughters smile with a soft chuckle. This was their last summer before Kindergarten and Sam wasn't ready to spend nearly eight hours a day separated from her darling girl.

"We fed Ollo and Campy and then Jezz came over!" Jasira babbled excitedly. "Then the giraffe's need their shots! I held little Effy's hoof."

"I hope you mean that figuratively." Sam chuckled with shake of her head, not even wanting to think of Jas trying to subdue a baby giraffe in the mist of getting shots.

"Did you know Osca was pregnant?" Sam wasn't sure she was thrilled to know that her five year old knew what pregnant meant. "She's going to have a little girl calf."

Okay then again, maybe she was learning all sorts of neatness. Sam chuckled. "When's she due?" She asked as they ended up in the middle of night time traffic. Sam took the stop as a moment to grab a cuple of cheese sticks from her bag and tossed one back to Jas.

"Four months. I'll be in school by then," Jas was absolutely deflated by the time she got it out.

"Aww, I'll bring you too see the calf, sweets." Sam promised her.

"I know, I just – I'm going to miss everyone," Sam understood that the adjustment wasn't hers alone to make. Jas was used to spending her days in exotic animal wonder and kindergarten could't possibly compare – could it? Maybe she should have wished for a less cumbersome job.

God that there was some instruction manual to parenthood. Especially one that offered a chapter on entering the witness protection program. Sam sighed at being able to move more than a few feet when traffic finally opened up, but relief was short lived...

A shot rang out in the midst of the night and in a heartbeat the methodical movement of the four door sedan was thrown. "Jas curl up!" Sam screamed out, a response that was well practiced by the two in case of emergency. Jas was already curling up in her car seat as Sam yanked the car into another lane and hit the accelerator despite the lack of momentum from the rear of the car due to the tire that was now flat.

Whoever was coming after them had a lot to learn...


End file.
